


A Visit From St. Nicholas

by T Verano (t_verano)



Category: The Sentinel (TV)
Genre: 2012 TS Secret Santa Drabble Days prompt "Santa Claus", Crack, M/M, Or a certain kind of fantasy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-23
Updated: 2012-12-23
Packaged: 2020-04-07 04:28:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 495
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19077496
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/t_verano/pseuds/T%20Verano
Summary: It's Christmas Eve, and there's a visitor in the loft.





	A Visit From St. Nicholas

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the 2012 TS Secret Santa Drabble Days prompt "Santa Claus"

Kris eased himself down onto the couch, adjusting the overflow of his belly comfortably against his thighs. The situation called for creative thinking. Neither the lad snoring softly in the downstairs bedroom (Blair, wasn't it?) nor the lad asleep upstairs (Jim, yes), believed, and that tied Kris's hands to a regrettable extent.

The plate of cookies he'd found on the counter — not with a note and a glass of milk (or single malt, which would've been even more appreciated) — now sat temptingly on the couch beside him and he picked out a nice, spicy pfefferneuse and popped it into his mouth.

Unfortunately, the pfefferneuse offered no inspiration. Perhaps a piece of shortbread…

A deadly-flat voice from halfway down the stairs broke in on Kris's thoughts. "Hands where I can see them."

Now that was rare, for Kris to have a pistol pointed at him. He chuckled. "How did you know I was here, might I ask? Most people never notice me, except for the tots when they're young enough."

"I've got really good ears, and you chew loudly. Mind telling me what you're doing sitting on my couch and eating Sandburg's cookies?"

"Not at all, lad. I'm merely trying to find some way to give you and your housemate what you both want for Christmas."

"Breaking and entering and… uh, cookie theft wouldn't be it, trust me."

"Ah, but you see, my entering never involves breaking, and cookies left out tonight traditionally are mine by right." He winked at Jim.

"Yeah, a burglar decked out as Santa Claus on Christmas Eve. Clever."

Kris studied Jim for a good long moment. "It's a shame you don't _believe_ as well as you apparently see and hear. Hmm…" He tugged at his beard thoughtfully. "Perhaps there's a loophole there — only those who believe can see me, and you're clearly seeing me, so…"

"Look, 'Santa.' I don't know what you want —"

"Bingo!" Kris said with a chortle.

"What?"

"You've referred to me as Santa, if less than whole-heartedly, and that, together with the odd fact that you're able to see me, unties my hands. Quite fortunate, since I do know what _you_ want, and now I can give it to you. Off to bed with you — you'll want to be rested to unwrap your present in the morning." He gave Jim another wink, this one with a little _push_ behind it.

Jim looked down at his gun, then around the living room, his eyes passing unseeingly over Kris. Then he shrugged and turned, and climbed the stairs back to his bedroom.

================

 

Jim woke up feeling unusually relaxed. Maybe because it was Christmas morning —

— or because there was a warm, body-shaped, blanket-wrapped lump lying in bed next to him, a lump that smelled enticingly of Blair.

"Um, Merry Christmas?" the lump said cautiously. "From me. If you want it — me — it; shit, whatever — but it's okay if you don't, I'll go —"

_"No,_ " Jim said. "Stay. I want you to stay."


End file.
